Silver Eyes
by WyrdaAburHugin
Summary: My mate is coming. The one with the silver eyes. This man I’ve dreamed of all twenty years of my life is almost here. It scares me. I will admit that, at least here, in my most private of thoughts. My father taught me that a leader never submits.RIDDICK/o
1. Chapter 1

_The man is here again. All I can see are his eyes. But they are the eyes of an animal. Sure and unyielding. I reach out to touch the glowing orbs in the dark… But he is gone. _

_My bed is a thin blanket on the ground, near the fire. __Which has gone out.__ We stopped to late last night to set up camp. We normally stop earlier, our numbers being too large for an early departure, and the hunt for dinner means an early stop. __But last night…__ Something was driving me. I made us go further. We made almost fifteen miles. _

_But now that I've had my dream, it makes sense. My mate is coming. __The one with the silver eyes.__ This man I've dreamed of all twenty years of my life is almost here. It scares me. I will admit that, at least here, in my most private of thoughts. I have never submitted to anyone. My father taught me th__at a leader must never submit__. She must listen to good sense, but must never put out that spark of defiant pride within her. My mate...__ I will have to submit to him; Shirah has made him my match__ in every way. But where is he? _

_I'm awake fully now; no chance to get back to sleep. He will __come__ when he comes, and not a moment sooner. That's what father always said. After all, he waited until he was twenty seven for my mother, and twelve more to rejoin her in Shirah'__s graveyard. _

_A noise pricks my ears, at first it is little better than a fly buzzing,__ which came to a __crescendo__ of a roar so loud that I covered my ears, glancing up to see a roundish object hurtling past, to land somewhere in the forest beyond the camp, the__ dirt spraying into the air, some floating down and landing__ around the sleepi__ng forms of the camp, despite the__ distance__, like a strange snow_

Taking a deep breath, she looked to the now wide awake members of her pack.

"Dustin," she said, looking to the man now hastily pulling on his boots, "get some of the men, I'll go ahead." He gave her a pointed look of concern.

"Mel-"

"Don't worry; I won't do anything stupid, just surveillance. I'll meet you at the crash site." And with that she was off, in the direction of the still settling cloud.

_It had looked like some for__ m of space junk. But why were there ships so close to Furya… And why didn't the debris just stay in their gravitational field?_

* * *

_His ship had been in the shipping lanes when it was intercepted. They pulled it into their gravitational field, and it was all over. He'd tried out maneuvering them, and all that fancy shit. But t__hey had some top notch gear__. And even more puzzling; they worked for the Company. _

"Richard B. Riddick," The unisex, non-descript voice began, "you are under arrest by The Company. Do not resist, or you will be subject to disciplinary action. Open your hull once inside the dock, and come out with your hands above your head."

"Yeah. Right." grunted Riddick. _Here we go again. __Back to all the brightness._ He strapped his goggles on, in anticipation of the harsh halogen lights the ship would be sure to use, _like __lookin__' i__nto the fuckin'__ sun._

Even more disturbing than the imminent future of chains and a bit was the burning feeling in the pit of his stomach, the shame of not noticing these guys. _How the hell had they slipped past him?_ Cryo dulled his senses, it sure as hell didn't put him out, and he was Riddick. He didn't get careless. With the kind of life he lived, he couldn't afford to.

Sometimes he would wonder, when he was in cryo and had time to, what would happen to him. He wouldn't always be this young, and it was difficult to stay alive even now. You didn't see old men in the slam. At least, you didn't for long. Everybody slips up; that was one thing he had learned from watching people in the past; but that meant he had to sometime, too. He didn't like that thought. But there wasn't really anything he could do about it, right?_ No use in worrying about when __you're__gonna__ die, if __you're__ going to no matter what. _

Since the ship was already in their dock, Riddick lowered the door, got up from the pilot's seat, and walked out.

"Hands out Convict, don't you know the drill by now?" a blond haired merc with a scar around his neck, right under his jaw, said as he walked up, fingering the trigger on his weapon_. Fuckin' cheats. They take all the fun outta a kill._

"Aw, no party? I was really lookin' forward to Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey." He said in his usual sarcastic manner, unable to resist spinning the shiv he'd had out at the ready back into it's sheath, then raised his arms in front of him, ready to be cuffed. They had at least twenty guys in this room alone, all with full guns. Riddick was good, the best, _but no one was that good. __At least, not __without__ ammo. Besides, might as well see where this was __goin__' before he killed all these motherfuckers. _

The blond slapped chains on his wrists and ankles. He was surprised they didn't go for the bit right away, or at least blindfold him.

"I'm savin' the bit for later, Riddick, don't ya worry. The boss man wants ta see ya first." He said with a sadistically sweet grin.

They lead him, with the normal shit load of guns pointed at his head, to a nicer portion of the ship, and finally into what looked to be an office. Cherry wood and leather seats. _Typical Company class._ The man behind the desk was hidden at this point by the large chair he was sitting in, with his back to the door.

He was led to the chair, and sat down, sprawling as he always did, as if perfectly at ease, while he was really waiting for his chance to pounce.

The man turned, he was an older guy, who still at least looked like he had a full head of brown hair, in what looked like a stifling suit, and his hands steepled in front of his face.

"You've been causing quite a lot of trouble for the Company, Mr. Riddick. However, in view of your recent annihilation of the Necromonger race, the Company has decided to grant you a reprieve. Would you like to hear our offer?"

"I'm listening." _What the hell was this fuck talking about? Reprieve? What, a single max instead of a triple? He'd be out in a few days, tops. Then this fuck would die, since he seemed to be in charge. _

"We simply can't ignore your presence in the Universe any longer, Mr. Riddick. You have killed too many to be pardoned, you find a way out of our best slams, we could merely sentence you to death, but what if we need you sometime in the future? Sure, we could put you in cryo," Riddick inwardly winced at that. Indefinite cryo. Wanna talk about hell… "But you would probably go insane given your… Genetic oddities… So the Company has decided on a different course for you. We're grounding you. Permanently. We will drop you off on a primitive planet, and you will be left there, with a tracking device that will alert us, should you somehow find a way off. And no, the planet has no ports, and only one slightly inhabited city. But, you shall have free reign on the planet. If you leave, however, you will be caught, and either placed in permanent cryo, or killed. This is your one chance, Mr. Riddick. What do you say?" The man looked at him, that smug smile almost daring him to say no. Well… Riddick just couldn't back down from a challenge.

"I say fuck you, ass-clown."

"Ah, I thought you would. Well, you have three weeks in cryo to change your mind. Good evening, Mr. Riddick." And with that, the mercs reentered, guns drawn, and escorted him to his cryo chamber.

* * *

_The beating of his heart was driving him crazy, just like the ticking of a clock when you're trying to get to sleep. He couldn't recall how long he'd been in cryo; they even put a blindfold over his eyes so he wouldn't be able to see anything. How had these fucks figured out cryo didn't work on him? He'd never really mentioned it… Made sure none of his secrets were known… But it didn't really matter anymore, did it?__ Not when he was inside a sound-__proof cryo locker, with this hands chained as high as he could go, along with his ankles chained to the floor, a steel band that looped back to the wall around his waist, keeping him from all but the smallest movements. Hell, these dickheads had even gone with the bit. _

_No sight, no smell, no taste except for the metal bit, just three weeks, even though it felt like more, of sensory deprivation. It was a fine type of torture to Riddick. If he hadn't been though similar so many times before, he might've gone insane. Hell, he was already insane, according to everyone else; not that he bothered to dispute the verdict. _

_But what to do about this new sentence… He couldn't remember ever staying on a planet for more than a few years. And they wanted him to live on the same one for the rest of his life? No more running, but no choice about it either. All in all, it wasn't a bad deal, but he wouldn't have freedom, either. Riddick knew a lot about prisons; hell, he'd been to most of them. He knew they didn't have to be all bars and guards with guns. In fact, a lot of people live most of their lives in a prison called marriage. Fuck any of __that shit. The Company was trying to make him settle __down;__ make him stay on one planet. He couldn't imagine not seeing the stars, piloting a ship was the only time he got any peace. _

_He couldn't worry too much about it now; there was nothing to do but go with the flow until he saw an opening. There had to be a way off that planet once he was there, it just might take a while to find it. _

Deciding it was pointless to worry about this anymore; he relaxed as much as he ever did, and let his mind drift.

* * *

Finally, after an eternity of silence, it came; a sound. He could hear the bullet proof glass door to the cryo locker opening; feel the exchange of air between the two areas on his skin. _Sensations; it was marvelous to feel them again._ His beast was practically purring with happiness that it was over; for now.

The moment of relishing his freedom passed quickly, however.

The blindfold was ripped off, and Riddick hurriedly closed the eyes he hadn't even realized were open, wincing inwardly as the bright halogens nearly burned his corneas. _Hopefully whatever shit hole they dumped him on at least had a decent amount of night. With his luck, they'd probably choose some fuckin' system with three or four suns, just to piss him off._

"Well, Mr. Riddick, you have nearly arrived at your destination." said the voice of the man who had formerly talked to Riddick in the office. "But before your departure, is there anything I or my associates need to clarify for you?"

"Where are my fuckin' goggles?" Riddick ground out, still a little foggy from the cryo stint.

"Mr. Jones, return Mr. Riddick's personal effects. All of them."

"All?"

"That includes the knives, Mr. Jones." Jones picked up a bag that had been leaning against the wall, and after a pointed glance at his superior, pulled a knife out of his boot, and placed it in the bag as well. The goggles went around Riddick's neck.

"Now for the fun part, princess." Said Jones, hefting a large gun looking object with a long needle attached to the end, where the barrel exit would be.

"I believe I did mention something about a tracking device, did I not, Mr. Riddick? This might hurt a bit. We have to attach it to the outside of the right atrium… You do know where that is, Mr. Riddick?"

"Course I do, Mr.Asshole. I did mention something about killing you slowly and painfully, did I not? I'm thinkin' I'll go for the sweet spot... You do know where that is? Fourth lumbar down, left of the spine, the abdominal aorta?" He was almost vindicated just by the look on that guys face, a mixture of fear, disgust, and anger. _God, all these company pussies, they were so self-righteous, but were really just sadists at heart. _

Then he felt the needle. They went in between his left ribs, right next to the sternum. The needle was pretty fuckin' big, as far as needles went. It wasn't just your average inoculation syringe. Then he felt it tear though a piece of his lungs, and Jones pulled out, and went in at a slightly different angle. Riddick was used to this shit; otherwise he was pretty sure that having a piece of your lung ripped out and then feeling them nick an artery would've made him scream his fuckin' lungs out, metaphorically speaking.

Finally, Jones depressed a button, and Riddick felt the increase in pressure as something ran down the needle, and into his chest. _He felt the tracker latch onto his chest, on what he assumed was his heart. With a squelch, the needle was pulled out, and Riddick felt the rivulets of blood running from the wound down his shirt and chest. Such a small wound normally wouldn't concern him; it would heal in a matter of minutes… But an arterial wound. This motherfucker really didn't know a thing about anatomy, did he? Once the surface of the wound healed, he would keep bleeding internally, unless he was lucky. __Very lucky.__ But a crash on a planet surface, that had to attract some attention. He would only have to wait a few hours at most to be 'rescued,' and he could probably get out of these chains before that, if the crash didn't do it for him. _

"Your cryo locker and the surrounding area double as a landing pod. As such it requires no piloting, so we shall leave you in your chains for now, Mr. Riddick. I take it that is satisfactory to you?"

"What planet are you dumpin' me on, anyway?" asked Riddick, beginning to feel the dizzying effects of blood loss, even though the wound was beginning to close. His breathing in the left lung was slightly hindered, probably from the tear, coupled with the arterial blood flooding it. He gauged his time; _probably about two to three hours, one and forty five conscious._

"I believe it is the planet Furya, of the Furyan System. Almost all the buildings and people were eradicated when the Necromongers ravished the planet a little over thirty years ago, but maybe a thousand total survived, the majority being Furyan. No ships or advanced technology to speak of. You should have fun there, Mr. Riddick. I hear they're big on violence. Sadly, this is where we part. Au revoir, Mr. Riddick." With that, Riddick was left alone with Jones and the other mercs.

"Nighty-night, Riddick." Said Jones, and Riddick felt a sharp crack as the end of a gun rapped against his head. He felt himself slip into unconsciousness as he heard the pressing of buttons, and the landing pod sealing it's self.

* * *

Melisande was running, in between the trees, her feet barely making a sound as her feet pounded the mossy rock and soil. She couldn't see the object she was trying to get to, but she knew this was the right direction.

All the sudden, she saw it, in the faint moonlight. It looked like a picture she had seen in an ancient textbook she'd found, when she was a child, in the ruins of her home city.

Her pack often scavenged for things like clothes and preservable food and things they couldn't make on their own like disinfectant, in the remains of the ruined city. Once, her father had found a very old textbook, History of the Human Race, or something like that. Many of the pages had been ripped out or destroyed by water and fire, but one page had had a picture of a pod like this one. The caption had said it was from the first time Humans had been anywhere other than Earth, their home planet. They had landed on their moon, which strangely had no name. That was back when they still had countries, and some place called "The United States of America" had been the country to do it._ Whatever country that was._

Its landing had carved a deep scar in the earth, and taken down a few trees as well. She could see a hatch on the primitive vessel, and took out one of her blades while she walked towards it, jumping down into the pit it lay in.

It took her a few moments to reach the hatch, climbing up to it using the rivets on the siding, as well as the piled up dirt, but she finally got there. She turned a handle, and it opened with a hiss, depressurizing rapidly.

The cramped space of the interior of- whatever the heck this thing was- was dimly lit with the glow of a monitor. Sealed in what she could only assume, from stories the elders told, was a cryo chamber, holding a man with chains on him. His shirt was stained with blood, and he had goggles around his neck. His shaved head reflected the light from the comp screen. He groaned, his eye flickering rapidly under half-closed lids. His heart rate was accelerated, she and his breathing seemed off. Part of the right lung, from the was his trachea was leaning. She wasn't technically a healer, but as Alpha of her pack, she had special gifts. Melisande struggled with the hard, slick surface of the glass dividing her from the injured man. Realizing she needed to look around for something to help her, she turned to the source of the blue light; the comp screen.

Although comps were few in the pack's home territory, she had been around a few, and had even managed to put together her own portable one, with help. So, she could at least get info without breaking it.

But, it turned out she didn't need to do anything. The screen had a file up; for a prisoner number 635127844, a Richard B. Riddick. The alias list, as well as the charges indited for was too long, and she skimmed them; she just needed to get him out. He would die if she waited for Dustin and the men; and whatever his crimes, they could always kill him later…

Wait. Richard B. Riddick?

Oh my goddess. Shit.

He was here. She could still remember the day, two years ago, when for almost an hour she, and every other Furyan alive had all been sent a vision, strait from Shirah, of Riddick, and his victory over the Lord Marshall of the Necromongers. That was the day that the whole of the planet, all Furyans, decided that it was time. They began their migration back to the capital city, to name their Alpha Pair, and rebuild their civilization.

Some did not like the idea of this man, this Riddick, raised by humans, who had never set foot on their planet, being the one to avenge them. But, especially to those who had lost a wife, a sister, a son, a brother, a husband, he was that lost person. And now, he had finally come home.

* * *

"Hey Rhea, how's our unconscious patient doing? Any signs of life yet?" Melisande said, stalking into the dim tent, squinting as her eyesight adjusted from the brightness of the clearing they were camped in.

"His heart rate and breathing are steady, but he doesn't seem to be waking up. The wound is almost healed; doesn't look like he'll need you to help him anymore. You can save all your strength for the hunt now. Dustin told me the herds here were getting harder to track… Any luck today?"

"Yeah, yeah, your hunky loaf of a man was the one to bring 'im in, too. A good size buck; he fought hard. It was a good kill. Be proud when you make him a cape… Or maybe you'll be making baby clothes, soon?" Melisande said, tentatively sniffing the air around her.

Rhea gasped and her hand flew instantly to her stomach.

"I- It can't- Are you serious??? It's not mating time yet though! And… Since last time.. I'd given up hope… How do you know???" Rhea and Dustin… Although Dustin was ten years older than her, Rhea was a quiet and sensible girl, and they were a perfect match, of course. Rhea was seventeen, but since she hadn't gotten pregnant during the last two Furyan mating seasons, they had all but stopped trying, stopped hoping. Even though Rhea took her job as Doctor and Midwife of the pack seriously and never let personal things interfere with her work, Melisande had seen her sadness when she helped other women with their babies. She hid her pain well, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. And, as alpha, it was Melisande's job to sense these things, just like how she had seen Rhea's baby in her dreams last night.

"Shirah showed the child to me. I won't tell you anything, so don't ask… You're not pregnant yet, but… Soon. The second season of the year is coming up in a week or two, right?" she grinned; her friend would love being pregnant. Hell, she had started glowing just from being married; she would be fuckin' incorrigible pregnant. But, that was why Melisande loved her.

Mel had a typically dark nature; she could hide it as a leader, and she could sense people, but about her own future she was a bit pessimistic. Little did she know her friend was hopping similar things would one day come Melisande's way.

"Now… Get outta here; I'll watch Riddick. Go fawn over your man, and give him the good news." She gave Rhea a small push, and watched her friend run over to where Dustin sat, by the fire. He laughed at something the man next to him said, and showed his wife the pelt, handing it to her so she could inspect it. Then he pulled her into his lap, and kissed her soundly.

Leaning against one of the tent supports, Melisande couldn't help but sigh. God, she wanted that. Not needed, never needed. Wanted. She could run this pack all by herself; she'd been doing it for five years, ever since she turned fifteen and became an adult. But… She wanted her mate.

A slight noise from Riddick moving on his pallet drew her attention back into the tent. She toed around the edges of his blankets, and knelt on his right side, checking his vitals and his scent for any drastic changes. She'd barely gotten a sniff in edgewise when she could tell something had changed…

* * *

And that my friends, is what we call a Dun-dun-dun... CLIFFY!!

So, I have taken Riddick, and Melisande, and am holding the rest of their story for randsome, until I get some REVIEWS!!! Thank you!

Argetlam


	2. Chapter 2 first half

To Molly, Honey76, dragonmamma, AnaALF, chemical-love, and M, my first six reviewers for the last chapter, I dedicate this chapter. I hope you enjoy, and that the reviews continue, because if they don't, I've still got a hold of Riddick and Melisande, if you know what I mean.

Disclaimer: Okay sugars, you know the drill. I don't own Riddick or Vin Diesel, but oh... If I did.

_Previously, on Silver Eyes: _

_Leaning against one of the tent supports, Melisande couldn't help by sigh. God, she wanted that. Not needed, never needed. Wanted. She could run this pack all by herself; she'd been doing it for five years, ever since she turned fifteen and became an adult. But... She wanted her mate. _

_A slight noise from Riddick moving on his pallet drew her attention back into the tent. She toed around the edges of his blankets, and knelt on his right side, checking his vitals and his scent for any drastic changes. She'd barely gotten a sniff in edgewise when she could tell something had changed. _

Her eyes caught part of Riddick's movement, but then the prick of her own shiv, taken from her belt, at her throat gaver her something more pressing to consider.

"Where am I?" she was shocked by the low growl that came from deep in Riddick's chest. The man had been lying unconscious for days, but his prescence was all together different when he was staring at her with those silver eyes.

_Silver eyes... _But then again, she had heard those were common in the slams that were to be found throughout the universe. And Furyans had a habit of getting into trouble, winding up in slam for murder and the like. There would probably be plenty of Furyan men with shine jobs in the capitol. After all, this man, this stranger, this Riddick, couldn't possibly be her mate.

Could he?

But Riddick was growing impatient with her failure to answer his question. She felt another growl resonate from his chest, and he grabbed her arm, a bit roughly, and none to gently reminded her of the blade at her throat.

"Welcome to Furya, Mr.Riddick." She gave him a grin, knowing it could anger him. Goddess, he's such an alpha male. The could be such dickheads. She hadn't been around one in so long, she had almost forgotten. Although it probably wasn't the best idea to piss him off, especially when he was wounded; wounded animals are the most dangerous, but she knew his kind, knew how to handle him and get respect. You couldn't back down.

"What the fuck happened?" he released her arm, but the blade stayed, and his eyes never relaxed their wearied watch, surveying his surroundings constantly.

"Your... vessel... landed a few meters away from our camp; I saw the crash, and alerted the others. When I arrived, you were unconscious in your cryo bay. It took quite a bit of work to get you out. Then you remained unconscious for a few days. The damage to your lung and artery was simple, but had been left untreated for a little to long.

"Collapsed lung?" he guessed.She nodded.

"Why did you do this?" he seemed a bit puzzled, searching my face for somehting.

"Because you are a fellow Furyan. And, frankly, we know what you did for us. Shirah showed us your victory over the former Lord Marshall."

"Shirah?"

"She is our goddess. Surely you have seen her? When she gave you our mark, maybe?"

"Oh... The woman from the visions. Dark skin, curly hair, weird clothes?" I looked down at my own clothes, and at the braids lying on my shoulder.

"She is our goddess. And these clothes may be weird to you now, but since you are stuck here, I have a feeling you'll soon get used to them. Also, you basically just described ever single woman on this planet."

"How much do you know about me?" now the defensive wariness was back again. I repressed a sigh. He needed to learn to relax, even by my standards. Then he tried to sit up. I noticed he adjusted his arm so that the knife did not slice my throat, but remained a threat. What had his life been like, that he could threated someion without giving it a thought?"

"Hey, hey! Watch it! Do you have any idea how many sessions it took just to heal you up enough not to die? Lungs do not drain and re-inflate easily. I'd like to not have to save your ass a second time!" I pressed a palm against his bare chest, trying in vain to press him back against his pallet.

"What do you mean, sessions?" I ignored him ignoring the whole 'I saved your life' bit, because he had digressed to growling again, it seemed. If the man didn't look so damn good awake and shirtless (and growling) I might have been a bit pissed about it.

"Lay down and I'll show you. I need to check you to make sure your arteries and lung are healing up well. There could still be a few weak spots in the arterial wall or the capillaries." then, deciding that being a little nice to the man, if only to get this done as efficiently as possible, added "please?"

He leaned towards her, not showing pain if he felt any; which he probably did. She could feel his breath on her neck; he was scenting her. She sniffed him too. Then again. Deeper. He smelled exactly the way a man should; of leather and steel, and the forest. A bit of sweat and hard work, but in the best possible way, a way that assured her he was mate material. At that thought she almost snorted. Mate. Ha.

Riddick leaned back, and held her eyes with his own. She didn't back down. She wouldn't. She was the alpha of her pack; he'd have to get used to obeying eventually.

He unleashed a slow rumble from his chest, and turned his eyes on full blast. He should need a license to carry those, Melisande thought. His head was tilted to the side and his eyebrows were raised. And he still managed to look amused. Damn the cocky bastard.

"What's an unmated kid doin' as alpha of a pack?" he asked. Melisande swallowed. She was trying not to be intimidated. But whatever she felt, she didn't let it show.

"I'm no kid, Richard. I've been leading my people for five years, which is damh longer than you've ever taken care of anyone, I'll bet. Now let me do my damn job, and keep you alive. Then we can reschedule this pissing contest for when you can stand up without holdin' on to somethin'." He laughed. The damn bastard had the fuckin' audacity to laugh. And lay down... Removing the all but forgotten blade from her neck.

"What's your name, kid?"

"I'm Melisande Rey. Now be still for a minute. This might feel weird, but you need to relax. Don't worry; It'll hurt me more than it hurts you." He could sense that she was telling the truth, so he warily let her lay her palm on his chest, right over his glowing mark. She closed her eyes, and all the sudden she was gone.

* * *

Riddick eyed this woman, wondering what the hell all this shaman hocus pocus was about. She hadn't been sitting there long, with her hand pressed to his bare chest, but for someone who wasn't used to friendly human contact, it was a lifetime.

And then he felt it.

At first, it was like a tickle, in his chest. Then he could feel the energy flowing out of her, into him. His mark flashed brighter than he'd ever seen it, brighter than when he'd taken out Vaako and the necro troops, and hers joined in as well, a glowing mark of a hand above her right breast.

Hopefullly after this -energy exchange?- he could get up, and get a nose for this place. He needed to plot out escape routes and get a feel for all the members of this pack.

Something about her smell intriqued him. He didn't know much about packs and alphas, except what he'd learned from his beast, and his brief but multiple prison stints, but somehow it had always made sense to him. This pack probably worked, but it must've been a strain on everybody, missing one of the most important members of the pack; the alpha male. She was over all not bad looking, in fact, there was something very alluring and comforting about her, he thought as his eyes raked her curves. How had she avoided being mated all this time, when the saftey of her pack was on the line?

He felt a slight twinge of pain, as the energy settled and his body grew accustomed to the foreign energy. How many times had she done this over the past few days? He could see that there weas little to no medical equiment in the tent, and it took a lot of work to reinflate a lung. Not to mention repair a spurting arterial wall.

Finally, her eyes fluttered slightly, and the fatigue rolled off her in waves.

"Melisande?" Riddick asked, not questioning the concern he was feeling, "are you with me?"(sorry, couldn't resist...)

"You... should be fine... now... I just need to... lay down... for a minute..." With that he Stood carefully, gritting his teeth in expectation of pain, but when none came, he watched Melisande curl up on the bed, and he knelt down to lace up his boots, which they'd apparently taken off. He didn't see his shirt anywhere, there must have been too much blood on it, or something. The knife he kept in his boot, along with the cred chips and everything else in his bag, were all there, surprisingly enough.

His practiced fingers deftly laced his boots, and he was half way done with the second when a man only slightly smaller than Riddick suddenly appeared in the doorway of the tent.

"What the hell happened to Mel?" he roared, his eyes going from a crouching Riddick, complete with a shiv that had appeared in his hands as if by magic, and the practically unconsicious Melisande, who's rising and falling chest was the only indicator that she wasn't dead.

"Dus! It's okay, Dus!" a small woman ran up behind the man, laying an arm on his tense shoulder.

"Mel probably just decided to give him another dose. She'll be awake in a minute. You know how she gets after." 'Dus' seemed to slowly nod in agreement, seeing the sense of the woman's words.

"Hello, Mr. Riddick." The small woman said, "It's good to see you up and about. It was touch and go there for a while. My name is Rhea, and this is my mate, Dustin I see you've met Melisande. Dus, honey, how 'bout you show Mr. Riddick 'round camp?"

"It's Riddick." Riddick grumbled. He'd never gotten used to all that 'Mr.' crap, no one ever used that when they talked to a convit.

"What?" she said gently, wrinkling her brow as if she didn't understand.

"Just call me Riddick. I don't go for any of that formal shit."

"Oh.. Alright, then, Riddick." she said with a light smile.

"Well, come on then, Riddick, let me show ya around." he motioned to the camp behind him, and turned to go, Riddick grabbing his pack and rising to follow.

"So... This is the camp. Home, sweet home. The tent next to the one we just left is Rhea's and mine. If you ever need anythin'... So, you want a bath, a shave, what? We probably got about thrity minutes 'fore dinner. Maria makes the best stew!"

Riddick was used to ignoring human things like hunger and pain, but when Dustin mentioned stew, he was again reminded of the weeks in cryo, followed by god knows how long he'd spent out after crash landing here. He ran his palm over his head, feeling the bristly stubble that had grown to almost an inch. He inwardly groaned. Shave it was.

"Shave. So,where's the water?"

"We use a pond. Hope that's not a problem?"

"I've used axel grease before. At least, I hope it was axel grease. So, where is it?"

"I'll show you. It's just down that path, strait until the path ends. Don't get side tracked by the deer trails."

"So," Dustin looked over at him as they headed down the dark path, "Axel grease?"

"Let's just say you never wanna get stuck on a planet with three suns, no water, and a sadistic merc." Dustin laughed.

"I'll bet that's a good story."

"Only if your not afraid of the dark."Riddick said, grinning despite himself.

* * *

Dustin had lent him a bar of soap, a as he smothed the lather all over his head, face, and neck, he allowed his mind to wander over all the things that had happened in the past couple of weeks.

Furya. God, was he really here? Ever since she'd started visiting him, -Shirah, Melisande had called her-, he'd been having occasional dreams of the proud planet. He'd toyed with the idea of visiting, of hiding out there, but concluded that the necromongers and the company would keep a close eye on the place they now associated with him. But whenever he'd taken out his star charts and plotted out a new voyage there'd only been one place left in this 'verse that really held any mystery, or answers, or peace for him.

It would seem strange, that he -Richard B. Riddick- would want peace. Not too much, not complete boredom, but he didn't want to have to constantly run from place to place to place to place just to break even, just to keep the mercs off his ass, and himself out of slam.

He seemed to be finding out more about himself, maybe more than he'd ever wanted to know. Maybe he was going soft. He missed Jack's -and Kyra's- presence. Hell, he'd even missed the holy man, and his fearful attempts to at reforming Riddick.

It made him angry at himself, not only this weakness, but the fact that he could've, should've, protected them. He had been too late to save Jack, from becoming Kyra, to save Carolyn, to save Imam, the few people over the years whose deaths, if he hadn't been the cause of, he had certinly failed to protect them.

And now where was he? Back where he'd never expected to be. On Furya. The Company knew where he was, but they wouldn't do anything about it, hopefully. He couldn't do anything but settle in, imbed himself in this place.

And maybe he could get a few of his own questions answered in the mean time.

Sorry, I know it's short, but for the past couple of weekends mom decided it would be great to take mini vacations! First all spring break in DC, then Nacadoches for a friends colledge, then this and that... It's just been insane. But, the backgrounds pretty much over. The RiddickXMelisande should start next time.

* * *


End file.
